a/n: I made some small changes in the first chapter, in case you want to read it again.

Okay, wow. Thank you so much everyone for the amazing response! I wasn't expecting it at all! And because of all your support, I'm going to continue this beyond the second chapter I mentioned before! But first, there's a couple of things I want to point out beforehand. And while I know this could turn away some readers, I think it's only fair to let you know this before you read further:

One, I have no idea whatsoever of where this story is going. None. Because I never planned to write more to begin with, and even after weeks of thinking about it, I'm still clueless about this. I have several ideas/prompts I'm planning to write, (some which were sent to Buckingham Alice tumblr too) but that's pretty much it. There's no big, intricate plot to be revealed, and it's very likely there wouldn't be one down the road.

Two, while I do plan to add the rest of the League too, the main focus is and will be Bruce and Clark. I'm not sure If I'm going to take this past the pre-slash stage as of yet, so I would recommend not to hold your breath waiting to read smut. Sorry!

If you're still reading after all of that, thank you and I hope you enjoy it!

...

And that, surprisingly, was that. Or maybe not so surprisingly, because 18 year old Bruce Wayne or not, he was still Batman. And Batman had never been particularly talkative to begin with.

That of course did not mean they hadn't exchanged a single word after the big reveal- because they had. Just... not about that particular issue. Well, they had talked about it briefly, but it hadn't gone very well.

After two more hours of searching they had found a small pond with water that one of Batman's many gadgets had declared safe to drink. After that they had taken shelter from the searing sun in a small rock structure they had had to crawl to get into; it wasn't tall enough for them to stand, but they could sit inside and still had a few inches above their heads. And it was large enough for them to lie inside without having to lie on top of each other, so they could spend the night in here if needed.

It was also less than a mile away from the pod which which was why they had chosen it in the first place.

Bat- Bruce (he just couldn't think of him as Batman right now) was sitting cross-legged across from him, head leaning back against the wall of their improvised shelter. He hadn't put the cowl back on since he took it out when they had been outside, and didn't seem to have the intention of doing so anytime soon, giving Clark a clear view of his face.

Clark sighed softly, letting his eyes travel back to his face. Bruce's eyes were closed, thick eyelashes casting shadows on his pale cheeks. His heart rate was low and breath slow, but not enough to indicate he was asleep. So he was most likely meditating or practicing some other relaxation technique. Like he had been for almost an hour now. Clark had opened his mouth to talk several times in that time, only to close it again.

They had been silent for almost two hours straight now after they settle the food issue; agreeing to rely on Batman's protein bars for as long as possible before risking ingesting any strange food. Even without his powers he didn't need to eat much, and Batman was Batman, so he could survive on only those bars for a while. Clark had barely suppressed a remark about growing boys needing proper nutrition. Just because he had found Batman was a lot younger than he had though didn't mean he had suddenly grown a sense of humor.

And while he could appreciate the quiet time to try and get his thoughts in some semblance of order, as well as reconcile the image of the young boy before him with the imposing, grim presence of the Batman-which was going to take him a while-he was starting to feel uncomfortable, sitting here in silence for so long.

"How-" He cleared his throat. "How long have you known who I am?"

That was a pretty safe conversation starter, right?

He watched as Bruce's eyelids lift slowly, his piercing cobalt eyes shining softly in the dimly lit shelter. He said nothing for a long time, gaze never wandering away from Clark's face. Just as Clark had been about to open his mouth to apologize for disturbing him, he spoke.

"Before our meeting in New York."

Clark felt his eyes widen. New York. That was the first time the League saw Batman in person. "You- How?"

"I make it my business to know." Bruce stated. "Besides, a constant slouch, baggy clothes and a pair of glasses are not the most reliable way to conceal your identity. Anyone with a bit of common sense could see right through it."

"No one has so far."

Bruce snorted, turning his head slightly to the side. He said nothing else.

"You know the secret identity of everyone in the League." It wasn't a question. "And yet you haven't seen fit to share yours. Let alone be honest about your age."

"I didn't lie." His chin was lifted in defiance.

"No, you didn't, but you still fooled us. You presented yourself as someone older and mature, making us believe what you wanted us to."

"I did not make you believe anything. Either I'm good at what I do or I'm not. Age has nothing to do with it." Bruce bit out through clenched teeth, glaring at him.

"You could have trusted us." Clark said, keeping his voice neutral. "How can we work together when you didn't even trusted us with this."

"I don't trust people. I don't trust anyone, period." Bruce tilted his head to the side, looking at him with a glimpse of sardonic curiosity. "Besides, I wasn't aware there was an age restriction to join the League."

"There isn't." Clark answered plainly. After the boy's easy admission he couldn't help but wonder if he had made a mistake with his insistence of welcoming Batman into the League. Sure, everyone else had been satisfied or impressed by the vigilant's efficiency, quick thinking and endurance after New York, but it had been Clark who had kept insisting after the Batman's initial refusal. Or the implied refusal in the vigilante's silence and scowl.

Maybe he hadn't wanted to join because of his age and Clark had pushed and pushed until he finally give up. Though he didn't think it would go over well to even imply he thought he had made the big bad Bat do something he hadn't wanted to do.

Looking at the blank expression on the boy's face and unreadable eyes, he couldn't help but remember the times he has spoken to Batman when the world wasn't at stake and they weren't fighting for their lives. The many times he had tried to imagine the other man's expression under the dark cowl by the slight changes in his voice or posture; notable only to someone with super vision and super hearing.

He always thought the cowl not only concealed Batman's identity, but also served to hide any and all facial expression of the vigilante; helping to fuel the rumors and myths surrounding Gotham's protector. That without the cowl, he would be able to read the man's face, just like that of anyone else. He was wrong.

Bruce Wayne's only response was a low grunt, but the almost cynical gleam in his eyes and nearly unnoticeable twitch at the corner of his mouth made it clear he thought he had won the argument, whatever that meant. He closed his eyes again without a word, and just like that, that single action signaled the end of the conversation, like only Batman could do it. Only instead of frustration or anger like he always felt, Clark felt relief, because he didn't have to keep doing this.

It took the rest of the League 42 hours to find and rescue them. They did not touch the subjective of Bruce Wayne or Batman's age again in that time.

The rest of the League had been there when Batman and he had been shot with a beam of light that had left them stranded here, so they didn't have to look for the perpetrators. And Wonder Woman's lasso made the gathering of information easy, and so most of that 42 hours had been used for research and work to recalibrate the gun-like artifact to work like the League needed it to.

Batman's cowl and cape were back in place long before Wonder Woman, Green Lantern and Martian Manhunter stood before them; only a few minutes after J'onn had reached them via the telepathic link they used during battles.

Once they had been transported to the mountain outside Happy Harbor (the place they were using as headquarters) Batman had slipped away from the group before Clark, or anyone else, could say anything to the boy, without so much as a thank you to the rest of the League for finding them. Clark decided to give him space. They both needed some room to breath after spending 42 hours straight without seeing or speaking to anyone but each other, after all. He used that time to take a shower and call home, as well as to check in on the Daily Planet.

By the time he finally looked for Batman, he was stunned to learn the boy had already left; had left within minutes of their arrival, eventhough it was still daytime, and without a growled threat to Superman to keep what he had learned in the past hours to himself, or even a dramatic resignation to his part time member status in the League. Nothing.

Now what?

...

a/n: Hope you're still interested in more! And I've got yet another question for you. Right now I'm hesitating between switching to Bruce's POV for the next chapter, or keep going with Clark's. On one hand, I think it would be interesting and fun to have as much insight into Bruce's head as Clark does for a while longer, but the prospect of getting into Bruce's head and seeing what he's thinking through this is too tempting. Ahhh! What do you think? Should I give it a shot or not?

LOL! I bet you can see I'm pretty new writing stuff, considering I'm asking you guys about everything rather than just deciding myself XD